


We May Be Blood

by applepail



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Gen, Tricksters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applepail/pseuds/applepail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven years ago, Kate Milligan was taken from her home by a trickster. Her twelve year old son, Adam, after witnessing his mother's supernatural kidnapping, contacted his estranged father for help.<br/>Now, after years of training, he's a solo hunter, still in search of his mother. But when two men claiming to be John Winchester's sons call him to tell him his father is dead, Adam may be in over his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We May Be Blood

_Another head aches, another heart breaks_  
I am so much older than I can take  
And my affection, well it comes and goes  
I need direction to perfection, no no no no 

My eyes flutter open, straining to see in the dark. There are two reasons for anyone to call at this hour.

One, they're in a different timezone, where it's not three in the goddamn morning.

Two, there's trouble.

_Help me out_  
Yeah, you know you got to help me out  
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the backburner  
You know you got to help me out 

My ringtone continues to play, as it takes me a moment to locate the surprisingly loud object. I stare in wonder at the small screen. 

_John_

That's what caller ID says. John. John as in John Winchester. John Winchester as in Assbutt of the Year. That name on the screen says don't pick up, but my gut, as usual, says I should pick up anyway.

I sigh, hoping maybe he's just sentimental and drunk, and hit answer.

"Hey, John," I say, sitting up and running a hand through my hair. "What's the deal?"

"No," A shaky voice says through the receiver. "No, not John."

Well, that's probably trouble.

"How'd you get this number?" I ask, immediately worried. "Where's John?"

"John Winchester is gone..." The voice says slowly. It's a notably deep man's voice, probably belonging to someone older than me. "Who are you?"

"What happened to him?" I demand, suddenly on my feet. The room is spinning. Why is the room spinning?

"He said if something happened, call Adam, you'd know what to do..."

"Who are you!?" I practically shout into phone. There's silence; broken by the sound of our breathing.

"W-We're his sons..."

\-----

Adam watched the Chevy Impala pull into the parking lot, feeling his stomach flop and his back instinctively straightening at the site of John Winchester's car. The good little soldier was prepared for any kind of ugly son of a bitch to come out, but the only thing he wasn't expecting was his brothers.

Brothers.

He had _brothers?_

He was his father's footsoldier. His teammate. His son. They had pulled each other from supernatural frays on tens of occasions, and saved each others lives more times than they could count. This was the man who taught him poker, gave him his first beer, and taught him how to drive from behind the wheel of his precious baby impala.

But never once did he mention he had other kids.

Were there more of them? Did he have a whole family somewhere that he never knew existed? Brothers and sisters with a missing father, blissfully unaware of the dangers lurking in the night? Or were they hunters too?

His head was spinning, but above all, he wanted the answer to one question.

_Why didn't Dad say anything?_

Adam watched as two young men, he was right when he guessed they were older than him. He was going to guess about 24 and 27, or something like that. He watched the one he guessed was the older one step out from the drivers seat, in perfect sync with his younger brother.

He leaned back in his seat. He had told them to meet him over lunch at a local diner. He had every trap for them set. If these were, in fact, monsters, he'd know.

Of course, there were a few he couldn't so easily test. He'd have to use his eyes.

It was no coincidence their table had a few extra dessert menus.

"Sam? Dean?" Adam asked, smiling as sweetly as he could at the two men at the door. They perked up at the sound of their names, their eyes falling on Adam.

"Adam?" They asked in unison.

"In the flesh," Adam said, watching them carefully. He extended his hand to shake, which they each accepted politely. He could tell they were probably expecting something just a little bit older. He got that a lot. You didn't see a lot of teenage hunters. He was one of the only ones he knew of. "So. Sons of John's? He never mentioned any... sons."

"We haven't seen each other in awhile. He’s not a big part of the picture." The one called Dean said gruffly. It was Dean Adam had spoken to over the phone, which made it weird to see his face now. He looked very different from what Adam had imagined. "He'd stop in every couple months. Spend a week, sometimes two."

"Who'd you stay with when he wasn't around?" Adam said, avoiding asking how his dad had died. He'd get his answer soon enough. "Your mom?"

"Family friend," Sam butted in. The look on Dean's face said Adam had asked a bad question. "Our dad worked a lot. We lived with a friend of his when he was gone."

"...I bet," Adam said, wondering if they were actually this ignorant. "Worked a lot"? What did they think their father was? A door to door salesman?

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Dean growled, looking ready to kill.

"Nothing." Adam said apologetically. "Just thinking out loud."

_Why didn't John turn_ this _one into a hunter?_ Adam asked himself. _He's a natural psycho!_

They all exchanged odd looks and glares as a waiter came over, introduced himself, and took their orders in the usual, perky attitudes waiters had.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Adam piped up. “What happened to John?”

The Winchesters glance over at each other, communicating silently.

“I can’t help if I don’t know what I’m helping with.”

“How do you plan on _helping_?” Dean asked. “Why would _you_ know how to find him? The cops couldn’t.”

“Just humor me,” The hunter replied.

The brothers pause, exchanging meaningful glances. It was obvious they didn’t trust Adam. They’d have to get over that soon. They could be in danger.

“He showed up at our apartment the other night ago,” Sam began. “It was late, we were both asleep. I don’t know how he got in, but he was screaming at us to get up and pack.”

" _Sam_!" Dean said.

“If he can help, he should know!”

Dean was obviously unhappy with his brother, but begrudgingly let him continue.

“We thought he was drunk, honestly,” Sam explained. “But he was terrified. He said we had to leave as soon as possible.”

“Terrified?” Adam asked, accidentally interrupting his brother. Never in all his years had he seen John Winchester truthfully afraid, let alone _scared._

“Yeah, we were surprised too,” Sam chuckled. “But he got us out and we got in the car. He wouldn’t answer any questions. He just said he was driving us to that family friend we mentioned. We never got that far.”

Adam’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Something was _chasing_ them? Something that scared _John Winchester_?

He noticed Sam’s explanation stopped. Surely that wasn’t it.

“...And?”

“Something... strange happened.”

That’s not good.

“What kind of strange?”

The Winchesters exchanged glances again. This time, Dean spoke up.

“Something stopped the car. It just shut off out of nowhere,” Dean said flatly. “Now, our first thought should’ve been it was just car trouble, but that car was in perfect condition. It wouldn’t just stop like that.”

John always took care of the impala. Adam guessed he loved it more than anything else in the entire universe.

“Dad was screaming something about getting out and trying to run. We tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t listen.” Dean continued. “He got out of the car, and... this man came out of nowhere and grabbed him. They fought, and for awhile it looked like Dad was winning, but...”

“That’s when the ‘something strange’ happened, I’m guessing?”

The Winchesters stared at Adam like he had grown an extra head right in front of them.

“...Yes,” Sam said quietly.

“It was a stressful thing,” Dean said defensively. “I doubt either of us were in our right minds.”

“Any little thing could help,” Adam coaxed. “So just tell me what you think you saw.”

“It’s not helpful,” Dean said. “It’s _insane.”_

“Lucky for you,” Adam said, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m all that easy to faze.”

“Dad was coughing up blood out of nowhere,” Sam said awkwardly. “And the whole world looked... fuzzy. Warped. But like Dean said, that was probably just stress... But, the man took him. They just... vanished. Into thin air. We could hear Dad screaming but it was like they were just...”

“...Gone.” Adam nodded, understanding. He turned to Dean. “Did you see it too?”

_“What?”_ Dean spat. “Do you think _aliens_ took him or something? Sam wasn’t seeing straight--”

“Were _you_?” Adam persisted. “What did _you_ see?”

Dean sat back in his chair defeatedly. “...It went... something like that... yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> Adam's Ringtone:  
> All These Things That I've Done - The Killers


End file.
